


Died in Your Arms

by stargazingwriter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Timelines, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff, Pre-Series, Romance, Smut, Soulmates, sort of canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-04-09 06:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4337861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargazingwriter/pseuds/stargazingwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester doesn't believe in soulmates. Even if he finds himself with the same girl in different lifetimes. Besides, relationships only get people killed in the world of hunting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pouring Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so this is my first story on here. This will start out pre-series with some alternate timelines here and there. Then it'll go into season 1. Rating will change when smut enters the story.

_June 20th, 1997_

Rain beat against the worn gravel and the trees swayed in the heavy wind. On the side of the back road was a small Ford that had crashed into a tree. No other cars were around and the rain was getting worse. A 1967 Chevy Impala turned on to the road.  
"I really hate dads music," Sam groaned, slumping in the passenger seat. He'd go into his sophomore year the upcoming fall, he just doesn't know where since they moved constantly.  
"Hey, driver picks music," his older brother, Dean, retorted.  
"And shotgun shuts his cake hole, I know."  
Dean smirked, turning up the music. Metallica blared through the speakers. Suddenly, the car swerved as Sam grabbed the wheel.  
"What the hell are you doing!" Dean shouted, slamming on the breaks.  
"There's a wreck!" Sam responded.  
Looking out the window, Deans carefree expression faded. He pulled over to the car and motioned to Sam to stay put. He turned the volume down as Dean ran over. The rain blurred his vision as he made his way to the car. Putting his hand against the window, he saw a girl. How cliché. He opened the door, pulling her out.  
She still had a pulse, barely. A trickle of blood fell down the side of her forehead, it became an odd shade of pink as the rain fell. Sam opened the back door and Dean laid her down. He closed the door, and started to drive away. There was a small boom and Dean looked in the rear view mirror to see the car behind had exploded. Sam called the police, alerting them of the matter; he sat next to the girl in the back making sure she stayed stable. They pulled up to the hospital. 

Dean carried the girl into the ER, her dark hair had spilled over his arm. The nurses placed her on a gurney before taking her into a room.  
"Can we leave?" Sam asked as he looked around the half full room.  
"Questions Sammy, questions," Dean responded.  
"It's Sam not Sammy."  
Dean rolled his eyes and the two sit near each other in the waiting room. A nurse walked up to them moments later.  
"So you two brought in the girl, right?" She asked, looking over her horn rimmed glasses.  
"Yes," Sam answered.  
"Where?" She continued.  
"We found her in a crash, it was one of the back roads," Dean responded.  
There were a couple of questions following that. The brothers took turns replying until the nurse decided she had enough information to leave.  
"Now can we go?" Sam asked, annoyed.  
"Here's a ten, get a coffee or something," Dean said.  
Sam huffed, taking the money and walking over to the cafe in the hospital. Dean ran a hand through his hair, it was becoming more dry. He let out a sigh and fell back into his seat. Truthfully, he wasn't sure why he was still in the hospital. He didn't know the girl, he wasn't related to her— but when he first saw her...  
When Dean first saw her, something clicked in he back of his head. As if he was supposed to know her. But from where? Maybe in passing on the road one day, another state, no. That didn't explain it. It couldn't explain the draw she unknowingly had on him. 

An hour passed and another nurse walked up to Dean. Sam had fallen asleep sometime before.  
"You're the one who brought in the crash victim? Mr. Smith?" she asked.  
"Yeah, that's me," Dean said.  
"She's asking for you."  
Dean followed the nurse to the room. He wanted to gag at the stench of the usual hospital spell. Soon enough they stopped at a room. The nurse opened the door and allowed Dean in.  
Inside of the room was her. The room was an ugly green color, emphasized by the thin stream of light the window allowed in. Dean pulled up a chair next to her. The white hospital robes clashed against her tanned skin. The two of them looked at each other, a comfortable silence.  
"The nurses told me that you're the one who pulled me out of the wreck," she said.  
"Yeah, some crash. I'm Dean, by the way," he said.  
"Skye. Stupid name, right?"  
"Nah, it's pretty cool."  
She gave a small laugh. Dean noticed the dried blood residing on the bandage on her forehead.  
"Have we met before?" Skye asked, tilting her head slightly.  
"I don't think so," he responded.  
"Huh. So should I expect to get my car from a towing company or something?"  
It.... Ah geez how do I explain this. Your car—"  
"What's?"  
"It combusted. Right after I got you out of it. It just. Blew up."  
"Damn it."  
She let out a huff before leaning back in the hospital bed.  
"Great. Now on top of whatever hospital bills I'll get, I'll have to tell my parents that I blew up the company car in an accident," she complained.  
"How did you even get into it anyway?" Dean questioned.  
"I saw this thing in the middle of the road. Car swerved and then the rest is history."  
"What did you see?"  
Dean leaned in closer to her. There was a glint in his eye— curiosity or eagerness, it was hard to decipher.  
"You wouldn't believe me," Skye said, twisting a piece of her hair in her hand.  
"Hey, I'm just trying to figure this out," Dean retorted.  
"Okay it looked like some sort of dog or something. Really big, black. It was weird."  
He gave a small nod, a smile teasing at his lips.  
"The nurses didn't mention you were this good looking before you came in," Skye blurted out.  
"Really?" Dean smirked.  
"Said it was like Prince Charming and Cinderella. Some bullshit like that."  
"I'm flattered."  
A pinkish color rose to Skye's cheeks, flustered she looked down at her hands trying to hide the blush.  
"So besides the head injury, anything else?" Dean asked.  
"Surprisingly nothing but that," Skye responded with a shrug.  
"When are you getting out?"  
"Probably later tonight."  
"That's good."  
"Yeah."

Before Dean could say anything else, there was a knock at the door. The two turned seeing Sam walk in.  
"Dad should be back in an hour, remember?" Sam stated.  
"Shit," Dean grumbled.  
"Hi?" Skye said, giving a nervous wave at Sam.  
Sam turned out of the doorway.  
"I should get going," Dean said, standing up.  
"Thanks for saving me," Skye said.  
"Why wouldn't I?"  
Dean said the last part with a small smile.  
"Is there a pen somewhere?" Skye questioned.  
He glanced at one on the desk, and took it to Skye. She reached for his hand, pushing his jacket sleeve up. Biting her lip, she wrote a series of numbers on his forearm.  
"Just uh incase," she said.  
"Maybe I'll see you around," Dean grinned, readjusting the jacket.  
"See ya, Dean."  
Dean walked out of the room, nearly bumping into Sam.  
"Finally, I never thought we'd leave," Sam grumbled.  
"Where do you have to be?" Dean questioned annoyed,  
The rain was letting up by the time Dean started the impala.


	2. Diner Girl

_June 24th, 1997_

Four days after the event with the car crash, Skye lingered about her empty house. Her mother was at lunch with one of her friends, and her dad was at work. He was infamous for being one of the best car salesman in the tiny town. Skye put her work uniform in her backpack before leaving the house on her bike. The Thirteenth Diner was an old worn down restaurant that was usually crowded— a town favorite.  
She snuck into the bathroom, changing into the white blouse and red knee length skirt that were called the uniform. The kitchen was crowded and hot. Someone passed her a tray for 26 before rushing off. A foot would stick into the isle and Skye narrowly avoided tripping frequently. Table twenty six. Him.  
The tray was weighing on Skye and she barely made it to the table.   
"Bacon cheeseburger, extra fries, and a Caesar salad," Skye said quickly.  
"I didn't know you worked here," Dean said.  
"You never asked," Skye smirked.  
"Thanks," Sam said.  
"What time are you off?" Dean asked.  
"Six," Skye grinned.  
Dean opened his mouth to say something before Skye jumped up letting out an ear piercing shriek. She pulled at the back of her shirt, a handful of ice cubes falling to the floor. A couple walked past her laughing.  
"Freak!" the girl said over her shoulder. She was much taller than Skye, with long wavy dirty blond hair and held onto the arm of her make companion.  
"What did I ever do to you Amy!" Skye demanded, furious,   
"Maybe you should grow the fuck up," the boy chided. He was about Amy's height, with short dark hair and rectangular glasses.   
"Get a life Elton," Skye hissed.  
"Better get back to work diner girl," Amy laughed.   
The couple walked out of the diner, onlookers returned to their normal conversations. Skye huffed, biting her lip and looking away from Dean. She took the now empty tray before rushing back into the kitchen. Sam pulled a book out of the backpack next to him, reading over it as he ate. Dean poked at the burger before getting up.  
"What are you doing?" Sam asked.   
"Helping a friend," Dean said, coldly.   
He stormed out, looking for the couple. On the side of the building, near a window that looked into the kitchen, were Amy and Elton eating each other's faces off. Not literally, but it looked like one of them was a horrible kisser. Or both. Dean pulled Elton off of Amy pushing him onto the brick wall. For a split second, everything looked different— Dean saw his leather jacket become a dark over cost and Elton's face took on a different appearance and it looked like night. He blinked and things went back to normal.   
"What the hell?!" Elton snapped.  
"Why the hell did you have to harass Skye like that?" Dean retorted.  
"We didn't do anything to her!" Amy interrupted.  
"Right. And I didn't see your buddy here pour those ice cubes down my friends back," Dean said sarcastically.  
"Bitch had it coming," Elton said.  
"I really outta beat you up," Dean sneered.  
"Oh the cunt has other people solving her fights? Damn she's a loser," Elton laughed.  
Dean glared at the other boy, tossing him to the ground. Amy knelt down next to Elton, grimacing at Dean.  
"Bastard had it coming," Dean shrugged.  
He walked to the impala, his appetite was lost. Sam came out a while later, the back pack clucking on his back.  
"You never came back in," Sam said.  
"Didn't feel hungry," Dean shrugged.  
"Sure. And I think I found what we're here for."  
"And what's that?"  
"Well, Dad thought it was a werewolf. But I'm pretty sure it's a Black Dog."  
"The death omen?"  
Sam gave a nod and Dean let out a sigh. He turned the music up, ACDC blasting in the car.   
"I think it's after Skye," Sam said.  
The impala jerked forward as Dean hit the break. The light had turned red. His hand went back to the volume and it was silent in the car.  
"You think it's after her?" Dean questioned.  
"Didn't you tell me that she told you that she saw a large black dog like thing before she crashed?" Sam responded.  
"How do we stop it?"   
"I'm still looking it up."

There was a small rush as Skye walked out of the diner. She pulled her hair out of its ponytail, the dar hair falling over her shoulders.  
"Need a ride?" Skye heard a familiar voice call out.  
Turning her head, she saw Dean sitting on the front of the impala.  
"Why not?" Skye shrugged.  
The two got into the impala, Dean putting a Metallica cassette on.  
"How was work?" Dean asked.  
"Besides the ice cube incident, fine," Skye responded, twirling a piece of hair in her hand. "And you beat Elton up. Everyone could see it in the kitchen."  
"For the record, I didn't beat him up. Just scared the kid."  
"You didn't have to do that, Dean!"  
"What? You really didn't deserve it. Why do they even do that kind of shit to you?"  
"Amy's an ex-friend and basically kicked me out of the Drama club unofficially. Elton's just her lackey."  
"Kicked you out of Drama?"  
"Okay, I got the lead in the Little Mermaid freshman year and Amy really wanted it. So she took a pair of kiddy scissors, cut my hair really badly when I wasn't looking, and told me to drop out or she'd do worse to me if I ever tried to join the club again. And that I didn't deserve the part because—."  
"Because?"  
"In her words, the little mermaid was supposed to be white not... some mixed darker Hispanic-Italian girl."  
"That is a dick move."  
"Yeah."  
"Where does she live?"  
Skye turned to Dean, her mouth agape before she let out a laugh.  
"I was three years ago! And you can just drive me home. Left right here."  
Dean let out a sigh, turning the corner. He looked over at Skye who was tapping her foot to the music.  
"You like Metallica?" he asked.  
"A little," Skye said, embarrassed.   
"New favorite person right here."  
"Shut up."  
"Where do I go next?"   
"A left and then a right. Fourth house on the left."  
The rest of the drive was rather silent. Dean pulled up to the house. A bright green lawn, the garage was closed and the sun was setting in the distance.  
"Thanks for the ride," Skye said.  
"Not a problem," Dean smiled.  
"It's a nice car by the way."  
"You wouldn't believe how long I spend keeping her in shape."  
"Wow. Hey do you want to come inside for dinner or something?"  
"Why not?"  
The two walked in, Skye turned the lights on to the kitchen. She looked on the counter seeing a piece of paper.  
"What's that?" Dean asked.  
"My mom. She left early for a girls night," Skye sighed. "How's Mac and cheese?"  
"Fine by me."  
Dean sat at the counter as Skye pulled a pot out of the cabinet.  
"Can you grab the blue box in the pantry?" she asked.  
There was the howling of a wolf in the distance and the lights flickered. Skye looked at Dean confused when he had the box of macaroni with the salt container in his other hand.  
"What's that for?" She asked.  
"Just uh, in case," Dean replied.  
"Ookay then."  
"Need any more help?"  
"Nah, I got it."  
Dean put his leather jacket on the back of the chair before sitting down.  
"So, I've told you about me. But you have told me much about yourself," Skye smiled spas she passed Dean a bowl of mac and sat next to him with her own bowl.  
"Well, my brother Sam is a nerd with a capital N. We move a lot because of my dad and I'm a high school drop out," Dean shrugged.  
"Sounds impressive. Lot more interesting than this tiny town in Pennsylvania."  
"It's a nice town."  
"Boring. I kinda just wanna move to New York, get onto Broadway. Just do... something with my life."  
"This apple pie life doesn't sound too bad here."  
"Are you kidding me? All my friends want to be nurses, get married, pop out a couple of kids and call it a life. I'd give anything to travel away from here."  
"Trust me, you wouldn't."  
"What makes you think you know what I'd do?"  
"I don't. But seriously, moving isn't all it's kicked up to be."  
Skye raised an eyebrow, grabbing the two now empty bowls. Dean took the bowls and started loading up the dishes.  
"You don't have to do that," Skye protested.  
"I want to," Dean shrugged.  
"Softy."  
"Doing anything tomorrow?"  
"Not really."  
"Feel like catching a movie?"  
"Yeah, yeah. That sounds nice."  
Dean closed the dishwasher, and leaned down to Skye. Her hands held onto his shoulders as she looked up at him smiling. He nearly fell back as she hugged him tightly.  
"Thanks, for everything, Dean," she said.   
"Yeah," Dean smiled.

The two walked into the family room, Skye turned on the tv. They sat apart before the space closed and Skye curled herself up next to Dean. A boring game show played on the screen. She closed her eyes, falling asleep on Dean.  
She dreamt herself in a red frilly dress, and Dean walked up to her. He was older. His hair parted to the side, unlike his messy sandy colored hair. He wore a dark over coat over a nice looking suit. There was a panicked look on his face. The words he said flew past her ears. Then there was a bang and she jumped up.   
"What time is it?" she asked quickly.  
"Seven twenty," Dean shrugged.  
"Shit. Shit. Shit! My dad will be here in thirty at the most."  
"Am I getting kicked out?"  
"I'm not supposed to have boys over without a chaperone."  
"That's stupid."  
"Ya think? I'm sorry but I don't want either of us to get in trouble."  
Dean have a nod of understanding. He grabbed his jacket and made his way to the door. Skye hugged him before his hand touched the handle. As she pulled away, Deans hand caressed the side of her face.   
"Kiss me," she said softly.  
"Are you sure?" he asked.  
Skye gave a small nod before Dean leaned down. Her lips were soft against his. Deans hand dangled itself in her hair, smelling buttercream as her hands pulled his neck closer to her.   
"I have to go, remember?" He smiled through the kiss.  
"Oh, right," Skye said, looking away from Dean as he pulled away.  
"I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow if that's okay."  
"Perfect."  
She felt a blush rise to her face as Dean kissed her cheek. He walked outside and the impala pulled itself out of the lot.


	3. Dean and Antony Bellini's Daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean Smith, infamous hit man under the mobster Bellini, is given the job of watching over his daughter. Can't be too hard when she's flirting, right?

_October 15th, 1947_

The streets of New York were busy as always. Paper boys shouting, women clutching their bags as they walked in packs, and the traffic was unmoving. The door to Red Sun Pawnshop opened up with the ringing of the bell. A small shop located in an overlooked alley. Knickknack and strange objects decorated the tiny room.  
Two men walked in looking around. Not at anything specific, no, someone. The taller one had a mop of brown hair and wore a pin striped suit. His companion was shorter, with sandy blond hair that had been side parted with an overcoat over his suit.  
"Mr. Lovett," the shorter one called out.  
A small man with wirey white hair popped up from behind what must have been a counter.  
"Ah, Mr. Smith. Mr. Weston," the man, Mr. Lovett said. "What can I do for you?"  
"We need to see Antony Bellini," Smith said.  
The color in Mr. Lovett's face drained. He faked a cough before leading the two taller men into the back room. There was a little desk with stacks of paper scattered across it. He opened another door and the other men walked in. The door lead into a hallway of an apartment complex. Light floods in, the beige colored walls look brighter than normal.  
"What's the room again, Sammy?" Mr. Smith asked.  
"Two hundred and five, and it's Samuel," his companion corrected.

They begin their walk up the stairs. The boards creak under them.  
"Are you sure you even want this job, Dean?" Samuel asked. "You don't even know what it is."  
"Hey, when Antony Bellini requests you for a job— you don't say no," Dean shrugged.  
"Besides, we're two hit men and Bellini's the leader of the largest mob in New York City."  
"We work under him, Sammy. How else would we be employed hit men?"  
"Well, I'm telling him I'm out of this when we get there."  
"Good luck."  
The two take a hallway before coming to room 205. Samuel walked in first, Dean giving a nod of encouragement. Of course he'd want to leave. It's fifteen minutes later when he walks back out with a smile and Dean walks in. The room is relatively empty, clean, but the smell of smoke lingers in the room.  
There's little light in the room. In the center of the main room is a desk; the chair behind it turns around. Antony Bellini, a man in his fifties, with short black hair, and wore a black suit. He radiated power and a don't fuck with me attitude.  
"A pleasure to meet you, Dean Smith," Antony smiled. "You've returned from the war I hear."  
"Yes, sir," Dean said.  
"You and Mr. Weston are rather peculiar with your methods."  
"It gets the job done."  
"Mr. Smith, I'm leaving town until November first. The job I'm presenting to you requires your undivided attention, skill, and is very, very important. Are you willing to take it?"  
"Absolutely."  
Bellini opened up a drawer to the desk, lighting a cigar.  
"I need you to protect, watch over, and defend," he started. He let out a puff of air. "My daughter while I'm away."  
"Wait.... daughter?" Dean questioned, surprised. He never heard of his boss having a kid.  
"Yes. It's too dangerous for me to take her with me to London, and I don't trust any of the other men. You? You're one of the best hit men I've encountered, back from the war, and you're relatively young. But more agile I'd assume."  
"I uh understand. Sir."  
"Be aware, if she gets hurt, and you fail protecting her. Well, you can kiss your paycheck goodbye."  
Dean gave a nervous nod.  
"I'm leaving town tonight. It's the top floor, number five of the apartment complex that's a left from fifth avenue and then down a right," Bellini stated. "You protect her, and make sure she's having a good time while I'm away. Do not fail me."  
He waved his hand and Dean walked out of the room. Samuel had since departed. A void seemed to place itself in Dean. The two were almost like brothers— they'd known each other since they were toddlers and were nearly inseparable, despite Dean being older. He looked at his watch, perhaps he'd stop by after dinner.

The apartment complex was much more lavish than the one he'd been in earlier, or his own. Dean took an elevator up to the top floor. He paced in front of the door to number 5. Perhaps it was him being nervous about possibly having a hit on him should he disappoint Bellini. With a breath, he knocked on the door.  
"Doors open," he heard a female voice say from the other side. Shrugging, he opened the door.  
Dean put his coat in the closet, looking around the apartment. Wide, the furniture was mostly brown, and clean. There was a window that stretched across the other side of the room. He sat on one if the chairs waiting for someone to appear. Another hit man, the younger Bellini, the apartment felt too quiet.  
"You're Dean, right?" he heard a voice ask.  
He jumped up, surprised. Turning around, he saw who he assumed to be Bellini's daughter. She had a coppery complexion, with dark hair pulled back halfway, and wore a white button down with a dark blue skirt.  
"Um uh yes, Dean Smith," he said standing up to shake her hand.  
"Rose," she shrugged.  
"Nice name."  
"It's too common for me."  
She dropped the handshake abruptly. She turned into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of some sort of whiskey.  
"Can I offer you a drink?" She offered.  
"Sure, why not?" Dean responded.  
After she poured the glasses, she sat next to him. Dean focused on the glass in his hand, attempting to ignore the brunette next to him.  
"My father said you were in the war," Rose stated.  
"Yeah," Dean shrugged, taking a drink.  
"I was almost served as a nurse. But father wanted me to stay in the states."  
"You wouldn't have wanted to have been there."  
"Better than having to stay here a majority of the week because father doesn't want me to end up like my mother."  
"What happened?"  
Rose put her drink on the coffee table, and laid on the couch with her head in Deans lap.She stared blankly at the ceiling. 

"I was seven. Father was being mentored under Capone—" Rose started.  
"Wait, Al Capone?" Dean questioned, surprised. "Like, THE Al Capone?"  
"Yes. Now let me finish— but this was like a year after his arrest. My father had moved us to New York shortly after. But some people he and Capone pissed off, well, they knew about my mother and how much she meant to my father. So one day, he's out, I'm at home with her, and then these men are knocking at the door and she hides me in the closet– I think she knew what was going to happen— the door slams open and I hear gunfire. I'm was under a ton of coats when they opened the closet. They just... left."  
"I'm sorry."  
"It was a long time ago. I don't even think I knew her that well."  
Her fingers laced together with Deans free hand. She grabbed his empty glass, stretching her arm put to put it on the table. After doing so, she lost her balance, almost falling onto the floor before Dean caught her.  
"That was a rush," Rose laughed.  
"You should be more careful," Dean said.  
"There's a spare bedroom if you want to stay here."  
"Thanks but I have a place."

She gave a shrug, and stood up, grabbing the glasses. Dean followed her into the kitchen as she put the glasses in the dishwasher. Looking away from her, his hand found the sink handle. With a smirk, he flicked water onto Rose, laughing. She looked at him annoyed when the front of her shirt was soaking.  
"Seriously, Smith?" Rose snapped. She started undoing the buttons to the shirt furious.  
"Is uh now really the time?" Dean asked, he turned the sink water off trying to not stare at Rose.  
"You're the one who got water on the front of my shirt!"  
With a grimace, she threw the white shirt at Dean. He looked at her irked, before noticing the lacy white bra she wore and the skirt remained on her. A sly grin formed on her face.  
"But these clothes were becoming restricting so I might as well thank you," Rose smiled as she pushed herself up against Dean.  
"Uh you're welcome?" Dean replied.  
She pulled the skirt down, leaving her in her underwear and the pair of heels she'd been wearing. With a shrug, she kicked the clothes away. Rose gave a small laugh upon noticing Deans mouth gaping open.  
"What's funny?" He snapped, breaking out of his daze.  
"Nothing," Rose grinned, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.  
"I should... probably go."  
Rose raised an eyebrow as Dean made his way to the door.  
"I'll see you later," Dean said.  
"You should stay next time," Rose said.  
"Maybe I will."

Dean walked back to his apartment he mentally scolded himself for the flirting he'd done with Rose. None of it had been intentional, on his part anyway. The walk was longer than what he had anticipated, but he wasn't going to pay for a cab. His own apartment was tiny, cramped and dark. For a moment, he missed the spaciousness of Roses. In a fit of energy, he shoved numerous clothes into a bag.  
He threw his coat somewhere across the room. Dean flopped onto the twin bed trying to fall asleep. To ignore his thoughts of Rose Bellini. Her smile clouded his thoughts, the way she told him about her mother, her full lips and the slim figure she held as she pranced around him in her underwear. He had managed to restrain himself, somehow. His hands had been dying to touch her, his mouth had watered when he thought of his mouth on hers, of taking her at at that moment. Dean knew he couldn't, after all, she was his boss' daughter.


	4. Avalanche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from a Walk the Moon song. Otherwise, this is where the rating changes for now.

_June 25th, 1997_

Dean and Sam sat across from each other looking over anything to help them with the Black Dog case. There had been reports of black dog sightings and deaths following soon after. A majority of the victims had been from the Petrelli family. John had left an hour earlier to question Joseph Petrelli, a man in his early forties who worked at the local car dealership. The wall of the motel room was plastered with newspaper clips and red strings.  
"Do you think silver bullets would kill it?" Sam asked, looking up from a book.  
"Maybe," Dean shrugged.  
"I'd think Celestial bronze would be better but we've only got silver."  
"Where the hell did you celestial bronze?"  
"Some Greek myths, never mind."  
Dean shrugged, turning the page over to Johns journal. Then the phone rang. Sam picked up the phone before Dean.  
"Who is it?" Dean mouthed.  
"Dad," Sam shrugged.  
Shaking his head, Dean went back to the journal. Sam prodded at his arm. His head snapped up, seeing that his younger brother had gotten off the phone.  
"Dad said that he just finished with Joseph," Sam said. "Apparently his daughter said she saw a black dog before her car crashed."  
"Great, who's the girl?" Dean asked sarcastically.  
"The girl we picked up. The one you're obsessed with?"  
"I am not obsessed with her!"  
"Says the guy moaning her name in his sleep..."  
"Hey, mind your own damn business!"  
"So I told him you had a date with her and he said to get as much information you can and—"  
"And what?"  
"He wants to use her as bait."  
Dean ran a hand through his hair. Using Skye as bait was the last thing he wanted to do. By doing so, he'd drag her into the life. Hunting, she'd get hurt. She was normal— she deserved a normal life with normal people doing normal things. Not on the road hunting things. The rest of the morning held a stiff silence.  
"C'mon Dean, she's not going to get hurt," Sam said.  
"It's what happens to her afterwards that I'm worried about," Dean stated. He slammed the book shut, heading out of the door. "I'm going out."  
Sam gave a defeated shrug as Dean walked out. He started up the impala, driving with no destination in mind. The forest was thick with an occasional hiker or horseback rider passing by. 

It was nearly four when Dean turned back into town. He stopped by a pizza parlor, and grabbed a pepperoni pizza to split with Sam for dinner. When he got back to the motel, Dean found his brother taking off the newspaper clips off of the wall.  
"What are you doing?" Dean questioned.  
"Dad told me to get rid of it," Sam responded. "He said he found a way to get rid of the black dog."  
"Good for him."  
Dean looked at the clock on the dresser as he stuffed a slice of pizza in his mouth. It would be five twenty soon.  
"Shit," Dean grumbled, his face full.  
"What?" Sam asked.  
"I gotta pick Skye up. Cover for me!"  
The older Winchester brother ran out of the motel. Sam let out a huff as he threw the rest of the newspapers away. 

Dean parked in front of Skye's house, knocking on the door. A couple of minutes went by before he noticed arguing and screaming coming from inside. He found the gate to the backyard open and crept alongside the wall. Looking inside the window, through the open blinds, he saw Skye arguing with who he assumed to be her parents. He stepped out of sight of the window, listening closely.  
The patio door, he assumed, was open thus allowing Dean to hear the voices. Skye was arguing about wanting to leave the town while her parents shot down any ideas she had. There was more arguing, from her father, about her lack of respect or motivation. Skye attempted to protest and then there was a loud crack. Dean jumped back, the sound was blistering.  
Skye ran out the back and nearly passed up Dean before he grabbed her hand. She looked at him, frightened with tears falling down her face. There was a bright pink mark on the side of her face. The thin loose white long sleeve shirt she wore hung off her shoulder oddly and her baggy jeans drifted over her white converse.  
"Dean," she said, her voice cracking.  
"Let's get outta here," Dean said.  
She held onto Dean tightly until they got in the car. The ride was relatively silent as Dean drove them to a cheap movie theatre.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Dean asked.  
"My dad blamed me about this guy asking him about my 'hallucinations' and then somehow it escalated from there. Then my mom joined in and started getting at my laziness as she puts it. And... she hit me, Dean," Skye said, her voice growing soft. "It was the first time this year.... and..."  
She cried into Deans shoulder as they sat in the car. Her breath became ragged as she pulled herself away from him. Skye looked in the side mirror as she ran a hand through her hair.  
"I'm sorry about that break down," Skye apologized, looking at her hands.  
"It's fine, Skye," Dean said. "You've been through a lot and I'm not sure how I can help but I'm here for you."  
She gave him a shy smile. He bought the tickets before they went inside. Skye leaned on the edge of her seat as she became enamored in the movie. Dean looked at her in adoration, but it looked more as if he was in love.  
"It's weird that I'd seen that black dog figure for years," Skye laughed softly, as they walked out of the movie when it was over. "Most of the time I'd see it and I'd avoid trouble— until the car crash. For a while I thought it was some sort of protector or companion but I guess things aren't always what they seem."  
"Any of your friends see it?" Dean questioned.  
"No— just me."  
Dean nodded in understanding before finding the Impala. His hand ghosted over Skye's before she held his.  
"Okay, what's your favorite movie?" Dean asked.  
"That's a tricky one," Skye huffed. "I'm gonna go with the Terminator."  
"Really?"  
"Yeah, why?"  
"You didn't strike me as that type of girl."  
Skye let out a scoff before opening the door to the car. There was a silence in the Impala as Dean started driving. Dean started on his way back to Skye's house before she grabbed his arm.  
"Can we not go back just yet?" she asked.  
"Sure," Dean shrugged. "Where would you rather go?"  
"I don't care. Anywhere."

Dean drove into the wood, before stopping in a parking lot that was mostly dirt. A small little ignored piece of earth.  
"How long do you want to stay out here?" he asked.  
"Doesn't matter," Skye shrugged. "We could stay all night out here if you wanted to."  
"Are you sure?"  
"Yeah."  
"Should you call your parents? Let them know."  
"That's a good idea. Can I uh borrow your phone?"  
He dug in his coat pocket, tossing Skye his phone. She clicked the numbers quickly, and placed the phone to her ear.  
"Hey, I'm staying at Donnas tonight. Don't worry about picking me up because I have a ride. Love you guys," Skye said into the phone.  
"What was that?" Dean asked.  
"Went to the answering machine," Skye said. She punched a new set of numbers into the phone. Waiting for an answer, she bit her lip. "Donna? Hey! Yes I know it's late— look could you just say I'm staying with you until tomorrow morning— I didn't start the fight!— okay thanks."  
She hung up and tossed the phone to Dean. He stepped out of the car, making a call himself. Skye watched as he paced back and forth before ending the call and getting inside the car.  
"Just had to check up on Sammy," Dean stated.  
"It's cool," Skye shrugged.  
The space between them grew small. Dean swore he felt something familiar about the way he looked into Skye's eyes.  
"Kiss me," she murmured. "Please."

Dean pulled Skye into a kiss. There weren't fireworks, no butterflies, but it felt comforting. She pulled at his lip, his mouth opening. He could taste peppermint as his tongue explored her mouth.  
"Back seat," he said, breaking the kiss.  
Skye climbed in the back with Dean following. He hovered over her, leaving kisses down the side of her neck. She let out a whimper as he slowed his pace. Skye pulled his jacket off of him and Deans hands went up her shirt, his hands ghosting over her breasts. She pushed him off of her as she pulled her shirt over her head to take it off.  
Deans eyes became focused on her chest; he kissed Skye furiously as his hands went under her bra and twisted her nipples with his fingers. She let out short gasps and Dean felt himself smile. Skye undid her bra with one of her hands, while the other pulled Dean closer in the kiss. He broke away, his mouth sucking on her mounds; she fell back on the seat of the impala, bucking against Dean. His free hand teased the other before he switched his attention. He then resumed kissing Skye as her hands ran through his hair. His hand felt her, stopped only by her jeans, as she rubbed herself against him. She moaned his name in between kisses.  
Dean turned the two of them over so that Skye was on top of him. She yanked his shirt off over his head, her hand running up and down him as she kissed him. Pulling herself away from him, she started rubbing herself above him as her hands rested themselves on his chest. His hands held onto her waist, the two of them syncing as she grinded against him.  
He pulled at her jeans, before she stopped him. She laid on top of him, panting.  
"Dean, I'm a minor for another couple of months and I'm a um... virgin," Skye said softly.  
"Oh," Dean said. "That's fine. We can just keep doing what we're doing or lay here. Up to you."  
Skye smiled, kissing Dean as he ran his hands up and down her back. His hand gripped her ass before teasing her nipples. She let out ragged breathes, usually saying Deans name. The two became tired, with Skye resting her head in the crook of Deans neck as she fell asleep. Dean toyed with her hair before he too, fell asleep.


	5. Dancing in Manhattan

_October 27th, 1947_

Dean had moved into the apartment officially nine days ago. He'd been relieved when Rose had stopped openly flirting with him as she had done the first night. Most of the time they lounged in the apartment listening to Frank Sinatra records. There was flirting here and there. The best moments for Dean were when he'd flirt with Rose and she was completely oblivious to it.  
Tonight, however, was different. Dean wasn't sure what it was at first. Perhaps because Rose had put on music that wasn't Frank Sinatra. He liked the change up. He poured a glass of whiskey for himself as he wore his white button up with the sleeves rolled up.  
"Dean, what do you think of me in this dress?" he heard Rose ask.  
He turned around and nearly did a spit take. She wore a flowing dark blue dress that had a v-neck with thin straps, and tall heels.  
"You um look nice," Dean sputtered.  
"Well get dressed silly," Rose smiled. "I want to go dancing."  
"Dancing?"  
"Yes. _Please?_ There's a club down in lower Manhattan that's really nice."  
"Lower Manhattan?"  
"Please, Dean?"  
He gave a sigh, caving into her request. Rose beamed as Dean went into his room, adjusting his shirt and threw a coat over it. She took his hand as they walked down the street. He listened to Rose as she rambled on about different stores and places she had visited outside of New York. Dean looked around every so often, feeling as if someone was trailing them.

The club was nestled in between two abandoned buildings in a relatively ignored street. Rose talked to the bouncer before the two walked in. She pulled him into the dance floor and Dean shuffled awkwardly. He went to bars not clubs, it was like being a fish out of water.  
Rose sat down at a booth and Dean went to grab them drinks. As he walked back to the table, he was ambushed by a dirty blonde,  
"Dean, I didn't expect to see you here," the blonde smiled. She held onto one of his arms, her bright red lipstick stood out against her pale skin,  
"I didn't expect to see you here either Madeline," Dean said flatly.  
"Can I have a dance?"  
"I'm busy."  
"It's a club."  
"Not interested."  
She pulled away from him, pursing her lips before she grabbed ahold of some poor guy close enough in her range. When he came back to the table he saw Rose looking at her hands.  
"Are you okay?" He asked, putting her drink in front of her.  
"Yes! Completely fine! Why wouldn't I be?" Rose said quickly with a forced smile.  
Dean gave a small nod, taking a sip of his drink. Rose shoved her drink down before pulling Dean onto the dance floor again as the band played a slower song. Time seemed to slow to him as they danced. Near the end, Rose looked as if she was going to kiss Dean— only to pull away before anything happened. They left shortly after and Dean noticed Madeline walking out with someone.  
"That was fun," Rose smiled.  
"Yeah," Dean shrugged.  
Then they heard a scream. Rose trailed behind Dean as he held the gun in his overcoat. In an alley, Dean saw Madeline on the ground of the gravel screaming and thrashing. Her companion stood over her. He pushed Rose back as they ran to her apartment.

Dean locked the door behind them quickly. Paranoid? Perhaps. He had to protect Rose unless he wanted to be a deadman himself. Rose took her heels off as she leaned against the door.  
"Well, there goes a nice evening," Rose said.  
"I liked going to that club with you," Dean admitted. "A nice change up from our normal routine."  
"Yeah, I'm going to um get to bed now."  
Dean raised and eyebrow and stepped back as Rose tackled him in a hug. He hadn't noticed how short she was when she wasn't in heels.  
"I feel stupid," she mumbled. "You're only here to protect me until my dad gets back but after these past few days... I can't.. I can't imagine myself without you."  
"It's okay," Dean said, stroking her hair.  
She pulled away from him, looking up at him hurt. Dean leaned down and caught her in a kiss. Rose pulled herself closer to him as he ran a hand down her back. She broke the kiss, resting her head on his chest.  
Dean led them to the couch, and Rose sat on his lap. She kissed him again as his hands wandered her.  
"I need you," she mumbled through the kiss.  
He ran his hands up her skirt, rubbing his hand over her underwear. Rose gave a small moan as he did so. He pulled her out of her stockings and underwear, before entering a finger. Dean smiled as Rose gasped. After a while he added another finger, feeling her soak on his hand.  
"Faster Dean," she moaned, he broke the kiss and placed light kisses on her neck.  
Rose gasped as Dean pulsed through her. She refrained herself from squirming as he kissed her neck. The sensation was rough and caused her to bounce on his leg. He flipped her onto her back as one of his hands pushed her skirt up giving him easier access. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he continued.  
"Do you know how long I've been waiting to do this?" He asked, hovering over her.  
"I'd guess a while," Rose smiled.  
"Since I first met you."  
Three fingers and stars twinkled in Roses eyes. She pressed herself closer to Dean as he went faster.  
"Remember that day you kissed me after breakfast yesterday?" Dean asked.  
"It wasn't really anything." Rose panted.  
"I wanted to take you on that counter right then and there."  
"I wish you would've."  
She sat up and led Dean into her darkened bedroom. Rose turned around for Dean to undo the dress. He yanked it down and Rose sat on his legs as she faced him on the edge of the bed. Rose took one of his fingers that had been in her and circled her tongue around the tip before sucking on it. He forced another finger into her mouth as she moaned on the taste.  
Rose felt another hand sliding up her leg before entering her. The pacing was different, his hand felt more calloused. Wrapped her arms around Deans neck loosely as his hand went faster and kissed his neck. She panted as his other hand circled her breasts before twisting and teasing at her nipples.  
"Does that feel good?" Dean asked.  
"Oh fuck yes," Rose moaned as she kissed Dean again. She gave a small laugh, "Damn I'm wet."  
"Isn't that the point?"  
Rose pulled away from him, pulling his shirt above his head and tossing it randomly across the room. Dean pulled his hand out of her, caressing her breasts. She kissed him deeply as she ran her hands up and down his chest. Dean broke the kiss as she stoked him over his pants.  
"You have too many clothes on," Rose murmured.  
"Don't you think we're going a little fast?" Dean asked before sucking one of her nipples.  
He smiled as Rose gave a gasp.  
"I trust you," she said softly.  
He looked up at her, smiling before putting his mouth on the other nipple. She undid his belt, her fingers fumbling as Deans tongue lapped around her breasts. Dean pulled his pants off, and Rose felt her back hit the bed. She stoked him as he kissed her. He moaned heavily as she increased her pace. His arm rested by her head while his right hand circled her clit before entering. She gasped and begged Dean to increase his pace as her hands pulled him closer to her.  
She was drained by the time Dean had stopped. The two of them breathing heavily as Dean rested his had on her chest. Rose ran a hand through his hair as she felt his breath on her even.  
"We should... do this again," she sighed.  
"Definitely," Dean said.

The two of them went under the covers of the bed. Rose smiled as Dean played with a strand of her hair. Dean thought the pillows in Roses room were better than his own.


	6. A Lovely Moment in Time

_October 28th, 1947_

There were reports stemming of missing women, or men with their throats cut that were found in back alleys. Police weren't sure who the attacker, or attackers, were. But there was something the men had in common. They worked for Antony Bellini. 

Dean woke up in the morning next to Rose. Then there was a knock at the door. He stumbled out of the bed, throwing on a pair of pants on his way to the door. Opening the door, he came face to face with a policeman. Damn.  
"Dean Smith?" The cop asked.  
"Uh yes. Yes that's me," Dean said nervously.  
"Look, I'm just here to say that we need you at the office at two today. We believe that Miss Bellini is in danger."  
He looked at the cop in disbelief. The aging, middle age man let out a sigh before going down the hallway. Dean shut the door, resting his back against it. He wasn't arrested. Which was good. But Rose was in danger. Which was worse than him being arrested.  
"Dean, is everything okay?" he heard Rose ask, tired.  
"Yeah, go back to bed baby," Dean said.  
She gave a nod and went back into the bedroom. Dean followed, holding Rose tightly in his arms as he was unable to sleep. Her steady breathing made him more anxious. Why would she be a target?

It was a couple hours later when they got ready to leave to lunch. There was flirting here and there over a pizza that they shared. Dean had his arm around Roses waist as they walked back to her apartment.  
"Dean, can you... can you please fuck me when we get back?" Rose asked.  
"I have to leave to the DA in an hour," he sighed.  
"Okay."  
Rose let out a sigh and rested herself against Dean as they walked. They got back to the apartment and Dean poured himself a drink. He slammed the glass onto the counter and saw Rose lean against the wall.  
"Are you sure everything's fine?" she asked raising an eyebrow.  
"Peachy," Dean said.  
She walked over to him, embracing him in a hug. He glanced at the clock seeing he still had time before two. Dean leaned down to kiss Rose. Her lips were soft and parted for his tongue to enter. He slammed her against the wall, her legs wrapping around his waist.  
Her hands pulled his coat off and his hands gripped her ass. She pushed herself closer to him, rubbing herself against Dean. He carried her over to the bedroom before ripping her shirt off. Dean pulled his shirt over his head as Rose undid his belt. She pulled his pants down and licked the tip of his member. He let out a moan and Rose cracked a smile before she licked him up and down before circling his tip again and taking him in her mouth. She bobbed her head guiding herself with her hand, before Dean began thrusting into her mouth. She rubbed his balls before looking up at him as she took him in her mouth. The thrust became faster and Rose groaned as he became more erect.  
He pulled out of her causing Rose to whimper. Dean kissed her firmly, cupping her breasts in his hands. She whined into the kiss as he pinched and twisted her nipples in his hands. Dean sucked on her neck before moving his mouth to her breasts. His tongue licked her nipple and the surrounding skin. His other hand caressed her breast before his mouth went to it. Rose let out a gasp as Dean slapped her untouched breast. He twisted the nipple and released it suddenly. Rose arched herself against Dean as he bit her nipple and his hand pulled her skirt down with her undies. He felt her folds soaked as he rubbed over her mound.  
Rose felt her eyes snap open as Dean entered into her with his hand. His mouth moved to her other breast and she felt Dean thrust into her with his hand.  
"You're so goddamned wet," Dean said, kissing her. "Fucking tight."  
"Then you're doing something wrong," Rose responded.  
Dean thrust into her faster, letting out grunts as Rose rubbed herself closer to him. Damn she was feeling wet. She kissed his neck, pulling him closer to her with her hand. Rose let out a laugh as she felt the bed shake under them. Dean rested an arm next to her head as he hovered over her head.  
"I need you," Rose murmured, "I need you to take me, Dean.  
She closed her eyes as she felt Dean position himself. Rose let out a gasp as Dean needed her. Damn he was thick. He thrust into her and Rose rocked back and forth with him. Her hands clawed at his back as she screamed for him to go faster. Stars flew in front of her eyes as she took him in. His other hand pulled her closer to him. He pulled out of her and they sat across from each other panting.  
"That was good," Dean panted.  
"Yeah," Rose smiled. "One more time?"  
Dean gave a smile and nodded before Rose straddled him. She positioned herself above him and Dean placed his hands on her waist as she thrust herself onto him. Rose threw her head back as she went up and down on Dean. Damn it was good. She let out a small shriek as Dean slapped her ass.  
"Faster," Dean grunted.  
Her hands placed themselves around his neck as she moved faster. His mouth kissed her neck causing her to shudder. He slapped her again.  
"I didn't tell you to stop," he said into her ear.  
Rose gave a small nod, going deeper on Dean. His hands ran up and down her neck before pulling her closer to him. She continued thrusting with Dean as his hands cupped her breasts, teasing them with his fingers. Her hands ran through his hair, feeling his breath become shallow.  
"I think I'm gonna come," he muttered.  
"Please," Rose begged.  
He thrust into her and Rose threw her head back as she felt Dean in her. His cum ran down her legs and she kept bouncing on him. Dean ran his hands through her hair, kissing her deeply. He removed his mouth from hers, sucking her nipples. He glanced up at her and Rose gave a smile. His spare hand teased and rubbed her nipple and breasts before slapping it. She moaned and pulled herself off of Dean.  
"Too much?" Dean asked her, kissing her neck. "Are you okay?"  
"I'm fine. I just...I don't want you to go," Rose panted.  
"I can't promise you that."  
She pulled Dean into a kiss before breaking it abruptly. Rose turned him into his back as she straddled him. Dean rested on his elbows, watching Rose take him in her mouth. She licked the cum off of his dick and stared at Dean as she shallowed it. Her hand traced over his member as she sucked his tip before taking him in. His hands tangeled themselves in her hair as he guided her faster. Rose pulled away, and laid next to him panting.  
"Can you make me come tonight?" She pleaded.  
"Yes," Dean responded. He glanced at the clock seeing it was two ten. "Shit!" He shouted.  
Dean redressed himself as Rose covered herself with the blanket on the bed. He ran out of the apartment and to the police station. 

"You're late," the officer said.  
"Yeah, well, I got caught up with some stuff," Dean sad, regaining his breath. He saw the cops name tag said Mike on it.  
"Well, we're glad your finally here."  
Mike led Dean to an office where another man stood looking out the window.  
"This is Mister Elliot Ness, he's working this case with us," Mike said.  
Dean pulled at his tie. He wasn't a fan of Ness. And he certainly didn't like cops. Even if they were in Bellini's pocket.  
"The men attacked all worked for Bellini at one point or another," Officer Mike said.  
"And that man is Louis Slade," Elliot interrupted. "Notorious killer back in Ohio. Went under Bellini before he was disposed. Classic case of revenge."  
"So what do you need me for?" Dean questioned,  
"Slade will go after Rose Bellini," Officer Mike said. "Or that's who we think. Apparently he had the hots for her before she turned him down. Repeatedly. "  
"I'm already under contract to protect her," Dean said.  
"Look, Dean— you seem like a great guy. I'm not sure how you got into this mess but you need to cooperate," Elliot said. "This is going to seem crazy. It is to an extent. But Slade is a vampire, which is why I'm working this case. My guys got sick who were up here so it's up to me."  
"A vampire? Yeah, and my brother is Frankenstein," Dean laughed.  
"Kid, this is serious," Mike said.  
"The plan is for you to take Rose to the Franklin Opera House, which is where a lot of Slades murders have occurred—" Ness started.  
"No, I'm not using her as bait," Dean protested.  
"It's that or he gets her," Mike said,  
Dean sat down, listening to the rest of the plan. He didn't like it, but Slade had to be stopped. 

When Dean arrived back at the apartment, Rose was wearing a sheer night dress and was laid on the couch reading.  
"You're back!" she grinned.  
Forcing a smile, Dean pulled the tickets out of his hands that Mike had given him.  
"How about an Opera?" He suggested.  
"Oh my gosh, really?! How did you get the tickets?" Rose beamed.  
"I know some people."  
Rose sat up on the couch and kissed Dean.  
"When is it?" she smiled, pulling away.  
"It's not for another day," Dean said, as she made her way to the bedroom.  
"That's good. Means we have tonight."  
She gave Dean a smile and sauntered into her bedroom. Dean sat in one of couches, his hands toying with the tickets. He had to keep Rose safe.


	7. Goodbye

_June 26th, 1997_

The following morning, Skye had woken up at a weird angle and grimaced at the light hitting her face. She remembered the night before and sat up abruptly. Dean grumbled before moving his arm in his sleep. She found her shirt in the car and moved to the front seat before putting it on.  
She let out a gasp when she saw a large wolf like creature in front of the car. It had been the same wolf from the day of the crash. However, she could see it more clearly despite the overcast. It definitely resembled a large wolf— larger than what she thought was normal— with shifting black mist around its body, and large solid colored glowing green eyes. Careful to not startle Dean awake, she got out of the car quietly.  
The wolf came closer to her, Skye swore she saw it smile. It nudged her side, as if to convince her to get back into the car. She nearly tripped when the wolf licked the side of her face, it smelt like decay and pomegranates. As the wolf was closer to her, she saw that the body really was made of mist.  
"Skye! Get back here!" Dean shouted panicked, he pulled his shirt over himself.  
"What? It's friendly," Skye said.   
A gun shot echoed nearby. Deans eyes widened and he opened the door for Skye before starting the car up. The wolf turned away from Skye, barking at where the gunshot sounded like it came off. Another shot and the wolf fell onto its side. Glancing at Dean, Skye turned to the wolf. It snapped at her to get back before it stood up, relatively weaker looking.   
"Get outta here," Skye whispered.   
It barked again at where it's shooter had come from and another shot echoed. The wolf disappeared. The black mist rippled through the air like water before it became nothing. Skye fell to her knees, unsure what to think.   
"Skye!" Dean shouted. "Let's go."  
Robotically, she sat back in the car. Unmoving, unchanging, as Dean drove her back home. He gave her a hug before she left. Confused when she pulled away from him abruptly, and slammed the door as she walked back to her house. 

He drove back to the motel. Sam was packing up their bags as John sat in the chair.   
"Didn't you think to pull the damn girl into the car when I shot the beast?" John said, his vice gruff.  
"She wasn't listening to me," Dean responded.  
"I asked if you thought to pull her into the car, not shout at her to get into it."  
"I'm sorry."  
"Damn right. Use your brain, Dean. At least we got rid of the stupid thing."  
John have a sigh, running the bridge of his nose.  
"We're leaving tonight, the jobs done here," John said.   
"Where are we going?" Sam asked.  
"Another job. I think I heard something about a werewolf out in Oklahoma."  
Sam rolled his eyes, that drive could take over a week with Dean complaining about wanting burgers. The brothers ended up watching a movie on the motels tv while John went outside to make a call to some people. Always other hunters. Dean kept suggesting that they stop by the diner Skye worked at for lunch. John had to leave early as usual. Sam eventually caved only to hear Sam shut up.   
"You know, just because some girl ended up being someone we needed to save, doesn't make her your soulmate," Sam said as they entered the diner.  
"Soulmate? That's hilarious," Dean laughed.   
"It was that or chastising you for obsessing over her."  
"I am not obsessed."

Dean noticed Skye talking to another waitress, the other one pointing over at Dean. He put his menu up, as he and Sam sat at the table. The other one walked over to their table, the hour prolonging as any normal day. If the brothers could say they had those. Sam let out a sigh as he noticed his brother and Skye made their way to each other towards the back of the diner.  
"What was that wolf thing this morning?" Skye asked coldly.  
"A black dog, you were its victim," Dean said before adding, "Or would be at some point."  
"There's a difference between a black dog and a black shuck. And those aren't even real, it's fables and there has to be a logical explanation for it."  
"Okay, what would you call what happened this morning?"  
"I don't know, a... a large wolf that got shot at and I was... in shock of being that close to it that I hallucinated it evaporating instead of running into the woods."  
"You didn't hallucinate."  
"Well that shit doesn't exist and I'm not sure what I saw."  
"You know what you saw."  
The two stood across from each other, only the noise of the dinner cutting through them. Skye crossed her arms, looking at the ground before glancing up at Dean.  
"And thanks for last night. But to be honest I'm really not looking for anything serious right now," Skye said.  
"Fine by me. My dads making us leave town again. The job he does, I swear," Dean said cracking a smile. He could've sworn he saw a look of hurt in Skye's eyes.  
"Oh."  
"But I'll probably pass through here eventually."  
"Yeah, we'll just keep in touch until then."  
"Definitely."  
"Friends?"  
"Yeah."  
Skye turned, looking at the other waitress calling her name.   
"I've gotta get back to work," she said.   
Dean gave a nod before the two departed from each other. 

Skye watched as Dean left the diner, nearly spilling the drinks on the tray she was carrying. Dean was leaving. It wouldn't be too long until he forgot about her. The night before had gone by in a flash. She still didn't believe the dog, wolf thing, whatever it was, had been a black dog. Or any thing remotely mythological.   
"Skye, I heard that Scott's interested in you," Donna told her when she came back into the kitchen.  
"Lacey's ex?" Skye questioned.  
"Yeah I know. But you aren't really friends with her and it looks like your boy toy is leaving."  
"He's not my boy toy and how did you know?"  
"Oh, just over heard it."  
"Besides, I'm not even interested in a relationship right now."  
Donna gave a huff, rolled her eyes, and went out to serve the next table. She was Skye's best friend, about average height, and had short red hair that was pulled to the side with a beret. Skye resumed her tasks as well. Longing for the day she could get out of Symphony. It wasn't that she completely hated the tiny town in Pennsylvania. She just couldn't handle how conforming it ended up being. Even those who left the town eventually came back. Skye knew that if she left, there was no chance of her ever returning. Hell, Dean would never show up again.


	8. First Drops of Crimson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: character suicide

_October 29th, 1947_

Dean had been on his toes a majority of the day. Tonight he was putting Rose and himself in danger. Sure, there would be other cops surrounding the area. Something felt incredibly, extremely off. He kept a couple of syringes filled with dead mans blood in the interior pocket of his overcoat. Ness had suggested doing it.  
The detective had taken a train back to Cincinnati. A family emergency he couldn't hold off. Rose came out of her bedroom wearing a red dress that went a little past her knees and put a matching red coat over it. Her dark hair had been pinned up intricately.  
"Do I look presentable?" she asked.  
"Beautiful," was the only Dean could force himself to say.  
Rose blushed before taking his arm. They walked down the streets of New York to the theater, passing a cop here and there. Ones that were stationed there for Ness' plan.  
"I'm glad we can do stuff like this," Rose said as they arrived at the theater.  
"Do stuff like what?" Dean asked.  
"Just hang out like friends."  
"Friends?"  
"I mean, that's what we are, Dean."  
The two found their seats amongst the hectic crowd. People chatted about the actors, the missing actresses and women, along with whom was sleeping with whom, mindless chatter.  
"I don't think friends sleep with each other on a normal basis," Dean whispered to Rose.  
"We've only actually fucked a handful of times," Rose corrected.  
"And the stuff before that?"  
Rose bit her lip, turning to the stage. The lights dimmed and the audience quieted. Dean wasn't sure what the opera was about. Something about a guy kidnapping a girl and flipping shit when she wanted to be with another guy. Rose, however, was enjoying the show. Her face scrunching up or in a resting smile at different parts.  
Outside, people screamed as they saw cops slaughtered. Officer Donally, a single father with two kids, fell to the ground with a gaping hole in the side of his throat. He wasn't the only one as people reported different cops, on different streets, falling over dead. Their deaths weren't that different. A man in a black fedora and dark overcoat would pass by a cop and they would fall over dead. Sometimes a dark blur would pass in front of the cop but nevertheless it was the same.  
The audience cheered and stood up as the musical ended. Rose and Dean walked out, only to be parted by the oncoming crowd. She glanced over at Dean, worried. Something was very very wrong. The two pushed their way towards each other, shuffling through the crowd. Then Rose let out a scream. A man wearing a black fedora and over coat pulled her through the entry way as she screamed and kicked.  
Dean ran after the man and Rose. The crowds screamed as they noticed the corpses of officers on the streets. He pushed through the panic, trying to follow the sound of Roses screams over the sound of traffic and crowds. As he came to the end of the street, he lost them.

Rose had been knocked unconscious somewhere along the way. When she woke up, she found that she was tied up in some sort of basement with a dim orange light above. She let out a hiss as she pulled against the rope, the binding searing her flesh.  
"Don't even try to escape," she heard a cool voice suggest. Her attention shifted to the figure in the doorway.  
The figure stepped closer into the light, removing the black hat. Rose glared at him. Tall, with jet black hair, pale skin, a chiseled jaw, and high cheekbones— damn he was handsome,  
"Miss me sweetheart?" he grinned.  
"Rot in hell," Rose snapped.  
He shook his head, stepping closer to Rose.  
"Really, I would've thought you'd stop being a goddamned bitch by now," he hissed.  
"Listen Slade, I liked you until you went insane on me," Rose said coldly.  
"Slade? What's wrong with my first name?"  
Rose turned her head, letting out a huff.  
"Cmon, you can't say that can of monkey shit is better than me," Slade said, putting a hand around her waist,  
Rose shifted in her bonds, trying to shake Slade's hand off of her. He let out a laugh.  
" _Holy shit_ you're pathetic," Slade laughed.  
"You're the one who has to tie a girl up to get her attention," Rose spat.  
"Listen you cunt, you're mine. I don't give a damn about the shit head you're sleeping with."  
"I was never yours! Or anyone else's! You're just mad because my father fired you and oh you were fucking some skank behind my back when I trusted you! Hell, you're pissed because I never let you touch me!"  
A crack rang out through the basement. It was as if cold marble dragged itself against Rose's cheek. She swore something broke but she swore she wouldn't cry over it. Then she felt something warm on the side of her mouth. Slade pressed his mouth against the side of hers. Rose shook trying to break free. His arms grabbed her shoulders, keeping her still. Rose shuttered feeling what felt like a pair of teeth against the spot. He pulled away and slapped her again.  
"Damn you taste good," Slade whispered in her ear. "Maybe I should finish you while I let the fucker watch."  
"Kill a girl who turned you down, doesn't sound bad," Rose shrugged sarcastically.  
He glared at her before walking out of the room.

Dean ran into a nearby store, using the phone to the managers protest.  
"Hello?" The voice on the other line said.  
"Sammy? It's me," Dean said.  
"What do you need?"  
"Rose."  
"Bellinis daughter or a hooker?"  
"Bellini. And this psycho abducted her and a ton of cops are dead because of him."  
"When did you get involved with cops? And not end up arrested?"  
"Samuel, I need your help to save her."  
"What's the magic word?"  
"So help me to fucking God we'll be dead if she isn't."  
"It's actually _please_ but since you actually care about her... where are you?"  
"Uh somewhere along fifth avenue."

He waited outside the store agitated. Samuel ran up to him after stepping out of a cab. His hair was shorter.  
"Any idea where they went?" Dean asked.  
"There aren't any abandoned factories nearby, but there is an old apartment building and I asked the cabbie who said some people noticed this guy who goes in there a lot," Samuel said.  
"Might be Slade."  
"Wait, that's the fucker who kidnapped Rose?"  
"Sure is."  
"Man, I hated that guy."  
The two sped towards the apartment building. As they reached the building, Dean noticed the door was open and crooked with what had to be blood splatters on the concrete stairs. For a second, Dean regretted asking Samuel for help. The guy was trying to live his life outside of the Bellini business.  
"Hi Dean," a feminine voice called out.  
The two noticed Madeline at the top of the stairs, wearing a tattered dress. The one she wore the night she left at the club. In someways she looked prettier than before, but there was an uneasy almost dead look in her face. Dean tossed Sam a syringe.  
"Madeline," Dean said coldly.  
"There's a bed somewhere in that mess. We could get dirty like we used to," Madeline smiled.  
"Not interested."  
She gave a shrug, and sped towards the two, trapping Samuel in a head lock.  
"The fuck is going on!" Samuel shouted.  
"Sorry, not allowed to let you boys get in if its for that tramp," Madeline sneered.  
"Just... just let him go," Dean said. "Seriously, I'm the one you want."  
She threw Samuel to the ground. The other man coughing, grabbing his neck as he tried to steady his breathing. Madeline pressed herself against Dean, trapping him in a kiss. Her lips were like frost against his. Sam came up behind her, stabbing her with the syringe. She fell away from Dean, screaming.  
The two men looked at the woman spasming at their feet. Her face became gaunt, aging rapidly, her veins becoming darker. She grasped at Deans ankle before he kicked her hand away. They ran inside, trying to find where Rose would be. There was a banging noise coming from behind a door. Samuel opened the door, pulling his gun out of his coat pocket.  
They walked down the steps, seeing the dim orange light of the basement. Rose was tied to an old upright bed as her legs dangled below her. A trail of blood ran down the side of her face, a bluish spot forming on one of her cheeks.  
"Dean!" She smiled.  
He ran over to her, pulling out a knife from the inside of his coat before cutting the rope. Rose held onto him tightly when the ropes released her.  
"I've got you," Dean whispered.  
"Something's wrong with Slade, we have to get out of here," Rose said.  
"Yeah, he's a vampire."  
"The fuck, those are stories."  
"We'll be one if we let that fucker get us."  
The two pulled away and Dean motioned for Sam to start up the stairs. Rose held onto Deans arm rightly. Sam had walked out of the door, Dean and Rose not too far behind him when there was the sound of a door slamming.  
"Run!" Dean shouted, gripping Rose tightly.  
The sound of a gun went off. Dean was ripped away from Rose. She stood frozen as she watched Dean grabbed by Slade. Rose looked at Sam who looked panicked as he held his gun, and then at the hallway Dean had disappeared from. She ran down the hallway. The door to a set of stairs swung open. Rose followed, hearing the two men above her shout profanities at each other. Then the door slammed above and Rose forced herself to run faster. 

The doors had planks of wood over them. Except for one. Rose heard Dean scream. Scared, she ran into the room. Slade hovered over Dean, pulling away forcefully to look at Rose. Dean pulled something out of his pocket, rolling it over to Rose. She hid it under her foot. A feeble attempt but Slade was busy running the blood off his chin.  
"Come here to tell me that I was right? That I am better than this piece of shit?" Slade beamed.  
"Oh yes," Rose lied, smiling as if it was natural. "I don't know how I was so wrong about you. You're much more handsome than Dean."  
Slade approached Rose, smiling. The sight almost repulsive with his blood stained teeth.  
"You're just so... _amazing_ being a vampire now, and I'd... Id like to spend forever with you," Rose continued. She undid her coat, letting it fall to the floor before taking her shoes off.  
Her hand went behind her back as Slade grabbed her waist.  
"I'd knew you'd come to your senses," Slade growled.  
Rose pulled him into a kiss, tears falling down her face as she heard Dean convulse behind Slade. Her mouth parted for Slade, internally she screamed as she felt the warmth of blood in his mouth. Then Slade let out a screech, pulling the syringe out of his neck.  
"Dead mans blood!" he shouted. His face started sinking into itself. "You wanted to kill me!"  
"You're an asshole," Rose spat, rubbing the blood off of her mouth.  
He jumped out of the window, Rose watched as his form crumbled to the ground. Unmoving. She heard Dean scream. Remembering what she was up there for, she knelt down next to Dean. His hand was growing cold in her own.  
"Dean, Dean stay with me," Rose pleaded.  
"He... he took too much... too much of my blood," Dean said, coughing up his own blood.  
"No— no! Dean! We can— we can get you to a hospital!"  
"S'too late."  
His hand caressed the side of her face.  
"I love you," Rose cried. "Damn I've never said that to anyone."  
"I... I love you—" Dean smiled.  
He coughed again, his body convulsing before his hand went limp in her own. Rose sobbed, lying next to the corpse of Dean with her head on his chest.  
"No! Don't leave me!" She cried. "D-don't leave me again."  
"Rose?" a voice asked.  
She looked up, her eyes red as she looked at Samuel.  
"He's dead," Samuel stated. "He died saving you."  
"He wasn't supposed to!" Rose snapped. "I didn't— I didn't want to loose him!"  
"Rose, you're safe. Slade's dead. Dean wanted you safe."  
Her hand ran down the side of Dean's face. His beautiful hazel eyes were blank. Eyes that once looked at her in love. She looked at Samuel. Her hand found the knife Dean had in his pocket.  
"Don't do it, please don't," Samuel pleaded.  
She put the knife at her stomach. Rose wiped away a tear as she pulled the knife away. Samuel let out a sigh of relief. One that was short lived. Rose plunged the knife in herself, screaming. Breathing heavily, she pulled the knife out. The blood pooled around her as she laid next to Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm considering doing a side story with the '47 storyline so keep a look out for it!


	9. Back Again

_August 11th, 1998_

The streetlights were on, an orange glow resided over the silent streets. A cold breeze waved through Symphony. It was about eleven when they left the cinema. Skye walked closely next to Scott as they talked about the movie. He noticed how tightly she was hugging herself that he gave her his hoodie. Something she was reluctant to do at first.   
Scott opened the car door for her before proceeding to enter himself. Skye gave a small smile. The car ride was relatively silent. She looked out the window taking in the scenery. Not that there was any. Then they began to pass the motel. Skye swore that she saw the Chevy Impala Dean had always driven. Dean.  
Scott stopped in front of her house before she kissed his cheek and left. She crept back into her room careful not to wake her parents. Not bothering to turn on the light, she discarded the jacket and flopped onto the bed. Curling into a fetal position she began to cry softly. At some point she fell asleep. 

The Thirteenth Diner was relatively empty around noon. Perhaps a couple of family's or factory workers on break. The heavy flow wouldn't be until closer to one. Skye practically beamed when she saw Scott walk in. He was tall— around six foot— with a lanky frame and shaggy brown hair that had been brushed to one side. He wasn't remarkably handsome, decently attractive but rather plain. There was a small hop in her steps as they walked to a booth on one end of the diner.

It was a regular day like any other for the summer. Skye had just gotten to the back with a tray of discarded dishes when Donna popped up behind her.  
"Hey, can you cover a table for me?" Donna asked.  
"Um, sure?" Skye responded.  
"Ok, it's the first booth on the right."

Skye shrugged, leaving the dishes. She found the table Donna was supposed to be serving and froze. The Winchesters. Ever since they left last summer her life had returned to normal. As normal as it could get. If they were back—  
She took a breath and walked up. Normal. Things were going normal. She took their orders and went to the back. No freaky incidents or awkward situations, yet.   
"Why the hell did you send me over to Sam and Dean?" Skye hissed at Donna when she found the other girl.  
"Dean," Donna said rolling her eyes. "He sorta asked me to."  
"And you just listened to him?"  
"I also covered Scott's table for you."  
There was a period of silence before Donna went out for another tables order. Skye eventually went out with the Winchesters order.  
"Haven't seen you in a while," Dean smiled.  
"Yeah," Skye agreed, avoiding his gaze.   
She had put the tray under her arm when she felt someone's grab her shoulder. With a jump she turned around to see Scott.  
"Jumpy much?" he smirked.  
"Didn't expect you to do that," Skye said.  
"Dane wants me in early so I thought I'd say bye."  
Skye stood on her toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek as he gave her a side hug.  
"Wow, who's that?" Dean asked with a grin.  
"Scott. My _boyfriend_ ," she responded with a bite in the last word.  
She turned on her heel and went to the kitchens. 

It was around six when her shift ended. She slung her backpack over her as she undid the lock to her bike. Then she noticed the chain broke. Second time in the past month. She walked the bike next to her until she noticed him.  
Sitting on the hood of the impala was Dean.  
"What are you doing here?" she asked irritated.  
"I was going to offer you a ride home until you passed me up."  
"Can I take you up on that offer? My bike broke."  
"Sure."  
He helped her put her bike in the trunk before they got in. She put her bag on her legs as she sat in the passenger side.   
"Scott seems like a nice guy," Dean said.  
"Yeah... yeah he is," Skye said.  
"How long have you guys been together?"  
"July fourth was our one year."  
"Wow."  
"Yeah."  
"With that guy?"  
"What about it?!"  
"You don't seem very interested in him. Much less at all."  
"I am. And he wants me to move in with him next week so."  
"Do you want to?"  
"Want to what?"  
"Move in with him?"  
There was a pause.   
"Who I'm with and what I do is my business, ok?" Skye said coldly.  
"Got it," Dean said.  
She twirled a piece of her hair in between her fingers.  
"If you're in town something weird is going on. So what is it this time?" Skye asked.  
"Um murders at that steel factory," Dean said. "There's been one every month for a while."  
"Weird accidents."  
"Keep telling yourself that Scully."  
"Scott would tell me if anything was going on at work. There's nothing to be said over it."  
"So that's where he works..."  
"Are you going to stalk him now?"  
"What? No."

The rest of the car ride was silent, save for the Kansas playing. Dean pulled into the driveway. Skye got out and went to the back for her bike.   
"To be honest, I never imagined you settling down with anyone," Dean said, grabbing the other end of the bike.  
"Why not?" Skye questioned.  
"Just... last summer you seemed close to giving up. You wanted to get away from your parents. And the whole not wanting a relationship then a week later getting with someone. For a year."  
"People change, Dean."  
"Don't change too hard on me, cherry pie."  
She rolled her eyes and started up the driveway. Dean grabbed onto the door of the car before he saw Skye turn around.  
"How long do you plan on staying this time?" she asked.  
"Month at the most," Dean responded.  
Skye gave him a smile before opening the garage.


End file.
